


Chicken Pho For The Soul

by jdrush



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Science Bros, angsty-fluff, or is it fluffy angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 11:12:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11379027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdrush/pseuds/jdrush
Summary: Tony returns home from Siberia to find an unexpected—but very welcomed—visitor waiting for him.





	Chicken Pho For The Soul

**Author's Note:**

> This story would not exist without my dear friend, Michele. Her encouragement and patience and phenomenal editing skills made this story so much better than I ever imagined. Thank you, hon.

TITLE: Chicken Pho for the Soul  
AUTHOR: J.D. Rush  
FANDOM: Marvel/Avengers  
PAIRING: Tony Stark/Bruce Banner (Science Bros FTW!)  
RATING: NC-17 for language and sexual situations  
SUMMARY: Tony returns home from Siberia to find an unexpected—but very welcomed—visitor waiting for him.  
WARNING: M/M slash fic with angsty-fluff (or is it fluffy-angst?)  
SPOILERS: “Avengers: Age of Ultron”; “Captain America: Civil War”. This story takes place after Siberia but before “Spider-Man: Homecoming”. There's a little gray area in there and that’s where I operate.  
DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to MARVEL, Disney, and anyone else who could sue me. No profits made, etc. etc. 

 

“Welcome home, Boss.”

Tony gave a small sad smile at the familiar greeting. There were times over the last few days he doubted he’d ever hear it again, especially if Ross had gotten his way. He was actually lucky to be back at the Tower and not doing time out on The Raft and he knew it. 

“Thanks, FRIDAY,” he replied tiredly as he stepped out of the elevator, half his mind on all the things he had to do, the other half thinking what a great idea it would be to crawl into bed and tell the world to go fuck itself. “Be a good girl and block all my calls, okay? Except Strange. Put him through no matter the time or what I’m doing or. . .”

“So then are my calls blocked too?” a soft voice broke in.

Tony jumped at the sound—obviously not expecting anyone else to be in the Tower with him— then simply stared for a long moment, shocked to see the last person he could have imagined standing in his living room. 

“Bruce?” he whispered, warily. After the past week, he couldn’t be sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him.

Bruce gave a little wave. “Hey, Tony. I. . .ah, I hope you don’t mind. FRIDAY let me in. You didn’t change my passcode.”

“Why would I do that?” Tony asked, puzzled. “This is your home. You’re always welcome. I’m just. . .this is a bit of a surprise, that’s all.” 

“Well, I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d drop by,” Bruce explained. Then, at Tony’s skeptical look, he elaborated, “It took a bus, two planes, a strip search at La Guardia and a cab to get IN the neighborhood, but here I am.”

“Strip search? Sorry I missed it,” Tony quipped automatically, his brain still trying to catch up to the fact that Bruce was here, in New York, in Avengers Tower. 

“Your loss,” Bruce volleyed back. Pursing his lips and glancing at the floor, he added, “I, um. . . I saw the footage.” 

Of course he had seen it. Everybody had seen it. Someone had leaked the Leipzig Airport security tape online, and by the next day, it was everywhere—even, apparently, in whatever Third World hidey-hole Bruce had been calling home recently. “FOX or CNN?” Tony joked without humour.

With a slight grin, Bruce replied, “John Oliver, actually. It’s where all the cool kids get their news.” 

That was good enough to illicit a weak chuckle. “He asked me to be on his show, talk about what happened, rack up some good PR.” 

“Makes sense. Why didn’t you?” 

Tony crossed his arms over his chest, trying for casual and missing by a mile. “I sort of had other fish to fry.” 

Bruce’s smile slipped. He wrapped his own arms around himself, unconsciously mirroring Tony’s defensive posture, unhappy about the unusual awkwardness he was sensing between them. “Yeah. How is Rhodes doing?”

“He’s at the Compound’s medical facility. I’ve flown in the best surgeons, but. . . ” Tony shrugged, helplessly. “They don’t know yet. He could walk again, maybe. And I’ve got some ideas, some things I'm working on that might help.” Another shrug. “It’s gonna be a long road either way.” 

“I’m sorry," Bruce said, knowing how inadequate it sounded even as he said it. But then, what do you say to someone who thought himself and his friends invincible when the harsh reality winds up crumpled and broken in a field somewhere? 

“Yeah, yeah, everyone is. Well, not everyone but. . .” Tony cut himself off. Uncrossing his arms and shoving his hands into his pants pockets, he shifted deliberately to a forced cheeriness. “You’re looking good.”

Tony watched as Bruce studied his face, assessing the damage— the bruise around his right eye, the deep gash across his left temple, the other cuts and scrapes that had yet to heal, the overall appearance of a man who had gotten perhaps ten hours of sleep in the last five days—and knew if he returned the compliment, he'd be lying. Instead Bruce just shrugged and replied dryly, “You mean I'm not green.”

“Unlike the last time I saw you.” _*Fucking Sokovia.*_ Tony hated that place, wished he had never heard of it, never stepped foot in it. Then there wouldn’t have been Ultron or Wanda or Johannesburg or Lagos or the fucking Accords. . . or. . .or. . . He rubbed at his tired eyes and tried to ignore the tremor in his hand. “Jesus, Bruce—it’s been two years. You could have dropped a postcard or something.” 

“You could have looked for me,” Bruce challenged. “In fact, I’m surprised you didn’t.”

“I thought about it, but crashing the Quinjet into the ocean? Kind of made it pretty clear you didn't want to be found. I just kept hoping someday you'd reach out, let us know you were all right.”

Bruce nodded sadly. “I'm sorry.” Apparently apology was his default tonight. “I was laying low, trying to work through some . . .things. Just trying to keep everyone safe.”

“Well, you did a better job of it than me,” Tony scoffed. “Maybe you can give me some pointers, because it seems no matter what I do to protect my friends, the people I love—it never works out the way I want it to.” 

“Man proposes, God disposes,” Bruce said, sagely.

That got a small smirk out of Tony. “When did you become philosophical?”

“The day I met and beat up a couple of alien gods? Speaking of, what did Thor have to say about all this?”

“Nada. We haven’t heard from him in ages. Ross wasn’t thrilled about that. But then, when is that man ever happy?”

Bruce glanced away. “He ask about me?” he inquired quietly, anxiously.

“Of course. Said I didn’t know where you were. Not that I would have told him even if I did.”

Bruce nodded, and gave Tony a grateful smile. “Thanks.”

“You must hate me, working with that bastard. Siding with him about the Accords was bad enough, but when Cap went rogue. . .” Tony shook his head. “I sold my soul to that fucker for one chance to bring Cap and the others in alive, and I failed and now look at us.”

Bruce didn’t respond right away and Tony braced himself. _*Here it comes.*_ he thought. _*This is it. The moment when Bruce sides with Cap and tells me I’m an idiot and I lose yet one more friend and fuck it, I just really can’t fucking do this anymore. . .*_

“You did what you had to do in a tough situation,” Bruce finally said, kindly but firmly. “I’m not going to condemn you for that.”

“You’re probably the only one.” Tony gave a dejected sigh. “I fucked it up, Bruce. I fucked it all up and now. . .” His shoulders slumped. “I have no idea how to fix it.”

It tore at Bruce to see Tony like this, looking and sounding so defeated. This was a good man who had offered him friendship when no one else would. A good man who gave him a home and a semblance of a normal life. A good man, trying to do good. 

Tony Stark deserved so much better.

Uncrossing his arms, Bruce reached up and removed his glasses. Polishing them with the hem of his shirt, he said softly, “Tony, I didn’t come back because of Ross or the Accords. I don’t care about them. I care about you. I came back because I thought you might need a friend.”

Tony smiled at that, and at Bruce‘s familiar nervous gesture. “Yeah, I can always use a good friend.”

“And may this good friend suggest you could use a shower, too?”

“Is that an offer, Doctor Banner?” Tony asked, half-jokingly.

“Maybe later,” Bruce half-joked back. “Why don’t you go clean up? The pho should be ready by the time you’re done.”

Tony couldn't hold a snort of laughter. “You’re making pho? Christ, Bruce, you’re worse than a Jewish grandmother.”

“You don’t have to eat it.”

“I didn’t say that. I love your pho,” Tony said with a playful wink.

Bruce smiled, feeling some of the tension between them lessening. “That has so much subtext I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Start with whatever will get us arrested in 39 states and work backwards.”

This. This was it. This was them. The way it had been between them, right from the beginning. Old friends, even at their first meeting. The bantering. The joking. The easy back and forth. That near perfect connection with someone who just understood you. Bruce hadn’t realized until that very moment how much he had missed it. “Remind me again why I came back?”

Tony gestured up and down his body. “Because you missed all of this.”

Bruce thought for a moment. “No, pretty sure that wasn’t it.”

“Fuck you.”

“I said, maybe later. Go on . . . we can talk over dinner, and you can tell me everything.”

“Last time I tried to do that, you fell asleep on me.”

With a roll of his eyes, Bruce sighed, “You’re never gonna let me forget that, are you?”

Tony grinned. “Nope.” 

“Well, this time I promise I'll stay awake.”

“Gonna hold you to that.” 

Bruce suddenly realized how much closer Tony was; they had subconsciously been moving towards one another this entire time. He tenderly cupped his friend’s cheek, a thumb lightly brushing over the still vivid purple bruise, and Tony melted into the caring touch. “Are you going to be okay?” he asked, sincerely.

“Aren't I always?”

“No.”

“And there's your answer.” And with that, Tony turned and headed towards the elevator.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

After a long shower that was surprisingly more invigorating and less painful than Tony had expected, he donned his favourite comfort-worn jeans and a tatty AC/DC Back in Black baseball shirt, and headed back to the kitchen, where Bruce was adding something green and suspiciously healthy looking to two big bowls on the counter. He brought one of the bowls of the fragrant soup over to the table and set it down in front of Tony, pausing briefly to brush his fingers lightly through Tony’s still-wet hair. At the tender touch, Tony looked up, something grateful and at the same time unsure shining in his dark eyes. Bruce gave him a warm smile and pressed a kiss to his forehead before retrieving his own soup and taking the seat across from him.

While enjoying the delicious pho along with his first cup of green tea in two years (he would never touch the stuff unless Bruce had made it), Tony explained how things had gone down in Lagos, the truth behind the bombing in Paris, Steve's refusal to sign the Accords, the battle at Leipzig, Natasha's betrayal in allowing Cap to escape, finding out that Bucky Barnes—no, the Winter Solider—had killed his parents, his violent reaction to that news and the resulting battle against Steve and the Winter Soldier—no, Bucky Barnes—in Siberia, where he had languished for nearly six hours in the bitter cold, trapped in his broken suit before Fury was able to track him down. (He was thankful FRIDAY had been able to send out a single distress signal before shutting down, but oh, the favours he was going to owe that man still made Tony's head spin.)

Bruce, meanwhile, true to his word, listened with a quiet sympathetic ear and no commentary or judgment, only speaking to ask an occasional question. Unfortunately, one of those inquiries involved Pepper, which forced Tony to talk about their break-up—about how she wanted him to walk away from Iron Man and the Avengers and how he tried but kept getting dragged back in, not that he really put up much of a fight. When the arguments finally began to outweigh the good times, they had called it quits. They were still on friendly terms, and she was still the best CEO Stark Industries had ever employed, but they would never be the same. Just one more thing in a long line of things he had screwed up in his life.

God, he really wanted a drink. A large drink. A liquor-store sized drink. Thankfully there was no alcohol in the Tower and hadn't been for a long time. If breaking up with Pep had been the dumbest thing he ever did, breaking up with the bottle had been the smartest, though some nights—like tonight— that decision proved harder to abide by than others. 

With a sigh, he poured himself another cup of green tea instead.

Still, as difficult as it all was—and as much as Tony hated talking about ‘feelings’— he was glad to be able to finally share his thoughts and doubts with someone. True friends were few and far between for him these days. There was Rhodey, of course, but Tony hadn't wanted to dump any of this on him—the man had more than enough on his plate to deal with and certainly didn't need more of Tony's shit. And Happy, but he was busy looking after the kid. (Tony shuddered to think what Aunt May would do to him if she ever found out where he had really taken Peter.) And perhaps Vision, but he wasn’t really someone you could spill your guts to.

There were days when he really, REALLY missed JARVIS. And how sad was it that one of the few people Tony ever trusted hadn’t been a person at all?

But now he had Bruce, back where he belonged, and it was just what Tony needed at that moment. Someone who understood him. Someone who wouldn’t judge him. And as the two of them continued to talk, the earlier awkwardness of their surprise ‘reunion’ continued to fade, being replaced with more and more of that familiar comfort he had always felt around Banner, right from the start. 

When the soup was gone, Bruce went to the fridge and pulled out a Junior’s cherry cheesecake for dessert, knowing it was something Tony loved, and also knowing Tony would never admit to loving it, just as Bruce would never admit to doing something so overtly sentimental. (“Did you buy that before or after the strip search?” “During.” “Thanks for that visual!”) Conversation shifted to Bruce's travels, and then to Tony’s newest tech projects, which brought them around to Bruce's latest scientific theories. Tony managed some smiles and Bruce managed some laughs and the hours passed in welcomed easy camaraderie.

It was closing in on midnight when Bruce finally stood up from the kitchen table and stretched. “Well, I should probably be going, unless you wanted to watch a movie or blow up something in the lab, for old time’s sake.”

“Actually, I thought I’d just turn in,” Tony said. “It’s been a rough—” he searched for a suitable word “—decade.” Holding out his right hand, he asked, softly, “Care to join me…for old time’s sake?” 

Bruce took the offered hand, even as he admonished, “Tony, don’t you think that would make things complicated?”

That earned a deep laugh. “Bruce, you’ve seen my life. Do you honestly think it can get MORE complicated? At least this complication would be pleasant for a change. And besides, you offered earlier, remember?” A sly smirk. An eye twinkle. Tony knew how to turn on the charm when he wanted to—and at that moment, he really wanted to. He hooked his fingers into Bruce’s belt loops and pulled him closer. “C’mon, big guy. We've both earned this. What do you have to lose?”

It was such a bad idea. Bruce knew that. Tony was obviously a mess. Then again, so was he. That’s what made them so perfect for each other. But Tony was right. They HAD earned this. Deserved this. And dammit, Bruce WANTED this.

He looked at Tony's hopeful face and sighed, “Why is it I can never say ‘no’ to you?”

“My dear fellow,” Tony lightly replied, as he began walking backwards towards the elevator, dragging Bruce along with him by his belt loops, “ours is not to reason why.” 

“And now who’s being philosophical?”

“I thought that was your new kink”

“Tony . . . shut up.”

“Make me?”

So Bruce did, the best way he knew how. He closed the distance between them and cupped Tony's face between his hands, pulling him in for a kiss as the elevator doors closed behind them. Tender, sweet kisses quickly escalated into a desperate need to taste and experience each other to the fullest, both men trying to make up for two long years apart. Bruce moaned softly when Tony licked urgently at his lips, begging entry – a plea Bruce couldn't ignore. The moaning only got louder as Tony slipped inside, and their tongues touched for the first time.  
   
Tony ran his hands up Bruce’s arms and across his broad shoulders and Bruce's fingers scruffed through Tony's beard as the kiss grew in passion and intensity. Unsurprisingly, the kiss wasn’t the only thing growing. Pressed into the corner of the elevator, Tony could feel his cock pressing into Bruce’s thigh, and quite naturally started rubbing himself against it. Bruce’s touch, Bruce’s smell, Bruce’s taste, Bruce’s sounds. . .all so familiar and comforting. Tony felt like he was drowning, surrounded by a sea of sensation, as Bruce's tongue continued to swirl around his, sliding slick and wet, intent on plundering every inch of his mouth. 

The kiss lasted until they reached Tony’s bedroom, and if the trip seemed to take longer than usual, neither man noticed, and FRIDAY would deny having anything to do with it. 

Once in the bedroom, Tony took things to the next level, casually unbuttoning Bruce’s shirt, parting the cheap linen material and running eager fingers through the abundant chest fur. “I’ve been itching to do this for hours,” he murmured, happily. “God, I love your chest. So manly, like a big hunky teddy bear.”

Bruce blushed, batting at his hands. "Stop that."

"No way—your blush is adorable."

“You’re such an asshole,” Bruce laughed.

“But you love me anyway.”

“Yeah, I sorta do,” Bruce said, fondly. “Let me show you.”

With that, Bruce gripped the hem of Tony’s tee-shirt. Knowing the mess that the shirt was hiding, Tony placed his hands on top of Bruce’s to stop him. “You can leave it on.”

“Nonsense,” Bruce replied, brushing a quick kiss across Tony’s lips. “I’ve seen the scars before,” and continued pulling at the shirt. Tony tensed up and glanced away as it was finally tugged over his head and Bruce got his first look at the damage even the Iron Man armor had been unable to prevent. The deep circular scar that marked where Tony’s arc reactor had once been housed was surrounded by bruising—a lot of bruising—mottled splashes of deep blue, purple, green, and yellow blooming across his entire torso. 

“Jesus, Tony,” Bruce muttered in dismay.

“You should have seen the other guy,” Tony tried to joke. It fell flat. “I’m fine, Bruce. Really. It’s nothing that won’t heal, and I’ve had worse, believe me.”

Gentle fingers ghosted over Tony’s chest. “I can’t believe Steve did this to you.”

“Well, he had help. And I gave just as good as I got.” 

“Doesn’t make it right.”

Tony shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. We both made mistakes. He made more, but there was plenty of blame to go around.”

“I wish I had been there for you. Maybe I could have helped, done something to prevent it from happening.”

“Or you would have done worse—shit, not ‘YOU’ you, but, you know, the other guy….”

Bruce gave a wry smile. “I knew what you meant.”

“I know your heart is in the right place, Bruce, but I’m glad you missed it. If something had gone wrong—you didn’t need that on your conscience.”

“But it’s okay on yours?” Bruce countered. When Tony didn’t reply to that, Bruce shook his head and sighed, “Maybe we shouldn’t do this.” 

“No, we totally should do this. I just want one night to forget.” Tony leaned forward and kissed him. “Please.” He kissed Bruce again. “I really want this.” Another kiss. “Want you.”

“I don't even know where to touch you without hurting you,” Bruce said softly, sadly. 

Tony took Bruce’s hand and placed it between his legs. “That doesn't hurt too bad,” he said, causing Bruce to huff out a startled laugh. “Feels pretty good, actually.”

“And I bet my mouth would feel even better.”

“I like the way you think, Banner.”

“Then why are you still wearing pants?”

“A very good point,” Tony said, flicking at the button of his jeans.

They both made quick work of their jeans and underpants, clothes flying off like Hulk-shredded shirts and Mark 42 armor. Once they were both nude, Bruce playfully pushed Tony onto the bed and followed him down, claiming his lips once more.  
   
After long minutes of hungry kisses, Bruce broke away much to Tony's disappointment. He whimpered in displeasure, until Bruce kissed his ear and whispered: “Shhhh. It’s okay.” He nibbled at Tony’s tender earlobe, before trailing a line of butterfly kisses down his throat and across his battered chest. A lingering kiss was placed over the massive scar which marked Tony’s heart, then further downwards until he quite happily wrapped his lips around Tony’s half-hard cock. 

Wet warmth surrounded Tony’s cock, causing him to sigh loudly as all but one of his muscles relaxed. It felt good, really good. It’d been so long since someone touched him like that, not since Pep. . .

_*Don’t go there, Tony. She’s not here. You lost her, messed it up, like you always mess things up. Just forget about her, let her get on with her life. You can’t keep hoping she’ll come back. She’s not just going to stroll through your front door. This isn’t a Nicholas Sparks book. Nicholas Sparks? Where the hell did that come from? Oh, yeah, Rhodey. Watching ‘The Notebook‘. Pretending he was just goofing around, but there were definitely sniffles at the end. Ragged on him good for that. Dammit, what is wrong with you? Your oldest friend is in the hospital because of you and you’re here having sex. You haven’t changed, Anthony Edward Stark. You’re still the same selfish self-absorbed asshole you’ve always been. What if Rhodey never walks again, huh? He’s so scared and it’s all your fault. If you hadn’t dragged him to Germany, he’d be fine right now. Should call Strange again. . .double the offer for a consult. Triple it. Maybe he’s already called back and the message got missed. Should check them again—*_

“I can hear your thoughts from here.”

“Huh?”

Bruce inched up the bed until he was hovering over Tony. “If you can still think, I’m obviously doing it wrong." There was a small, sad smile tugging at his lips.

“No! I—no!” Tony stammered. “It was great. Better than great. Best blowjob I ever got.”

“Funny, I seem to be the only one interested.”

“Sorry. I just. . .” Tony shook his head. “I’m having a hard time shutting down right now, that’s all.”

“That’s usually my problem. Look, it’s okay, Tony—we don’t have to do this. I can stop if you want, and we can just snuggle or something."

That made Tony grin. “ _Snuggle?_ ” he teased. “Did you just say _snuggle_?”

“It was just an option.”

“Uh-uh. No way. It’s been two years since I had you in my bed. We're totally doing this. The snuggling can wait.”

“If you're sure.”

Tony pulled him in for a kiss. “Yeah. I'm pretty damn sure.” 

"Well, I'll get back to work then?” 

“If you would be so kind, Doctor.”

Bruce gave Tony another kiss, then worked his way back down his body; once in position, he grabbed Tony's right hand and placed it on top of his head. "No pulling,” he cautioned.

“No promises,” Tony volleyed back, restless fingers already threading through Bruce’s hair.

“Just relax.” And with that, Bruce bent his head and pressed his face once more into Tony’s lap.

Tony gasped aloud as Bruce licked along the contours of his erection, tracing its heft and shape, shivering as Bruce’s tongue dragged up and down the sensitive flesh.  
   
Just when Tony thought he couldn’t take much more teasing, Bruce dipped his head lower. Tony tried—and failed—to stifle his groan as first one ball, and then the other, was enveloped by Bruce’s talented mouth. 

For long moments, Bruce was content just to play with Tony‘s balls, lapping at them with his rough, agile tongue, and enjoying the needy sounds Tony was making. Tony’s hips pushed up involuntarily, communicating his desire, trying to encourage Bruce to start moving things along.  
   
Bruce finally seemed to take the hint. He wrapped his stout-fingered hand around Tony‘s rigid cock, deftly stroking up and down. Mouth soon joined hand, working in concert, and Tony breath hitched as Bruce licked from tip to balls and back again, his clever tongue tracing designs on the delicate skin, coaxing out more precum and swabbing it along the firm shaft. With a final long lick, Bruce bent forward and took the crown into his mouth, his hand continuing its steady, easy pace

Any remaining reservations Tony had had about what they were doing were forgotten as his cock was suddenly sucked in, bathed in liquid heat. 

Tony found that his fingers, now tangled in Bruce’s salt-n-pepper curls, kept him grounded and in the present. With a gentle nudge, he pushed Bruce down an extra inch, urging him on. Through heavy-lidded eyes, he watched as Bruce’s perfect lips stretched around his engorged cock before pulling off then swallowing him again. 

“Yeah, like that,” Tony sighed. “Definitely doing it right.” Bruce’s laughter, mixed with the slurping and moaning sounds he was making made it all feel particularly indecent, which made Tony love him. . . _it_. . .all the more.

Slowly and methodically, like everything else he did, Bruce set out to give Tony as much pleasure as possible. Inch by measured inch disappeared into his talented mouth until he held Tony deep in his throat. His hands, now free, reached underneath to cradle Tony’s ass and hold him steady. 

Tossing his head back in abandon, Tony surrendered to Bruce’s skillful ministrations. “Oh, god. . . fuck. . .yes. . .just like that,” he groaned, as Bruce began bobbing his head up and down between Tony’s legs, the obscene wet/slick sounds echoing throughout the room. Hot and wet and messy and perfect…. 

Bruce’s strong steady rhythm soon had Tony coming undone. Bruce could tell how close Tony was to climax from the quickening of his breath and the increased tension of his muscles—and he redoubled his efforts, determined to make this good for his friend. 

It was just enough and all too much for Tony.

He tried to give warning, but only got as far as sobbing, “Bruce,” before his orgasm was wrenched from deep within, his hips jerking upwards with each shot. Bruce swallowed everything Tony had to give until there was nothing left but the slow release of Tony’s grip on his hair, and his name, whispered this time: “Bruce…”

As Tony lay there, sweaty and trembling from his release, Bruce inched his way back up until, on hands and knees, he was straddling Tony’s chest, careful not to press on any of the bruises. Leaning forward, he nuzzled at Tony’s neck. 

“That . . .was. . .amazing,” Tony panted. “Just what I needed.”

“Hmmm,” Bruce hummed, smugly. “Glad I could help.”

Tony turned his face, his lips brushing against Bruce’s cheek. Bruce tilted his head, and soon they were kissing deeply once more. Bruce’s mouth was hot and sweet, tinged with a tangy flavor Tony recognized as his own, which made him moan with renewed passion as Bruce’s tongue glided lazily around his own. 

As they kissed, dexterous fingers, calloused from years in his workshop, wrapped around Bruce’s cock, and Tony pulled back to offer his second most wicked grin: “Your turn.”

“You don’t have to, I’m fine.”

“That wasn’t a ‘no’.” Tony gave a light stroke, Bruce gave a low moan. “Good?”

“So good,” Bruce sighed, leaning down to give Tony a kiss.

“Do you want me to stop?” Tony asked, already guessing the answer, as his hand gave another firm stroke. “’Cause you know we can stop if you want to and just _snuggle for a bit_. . .”

“You better not if you know what’s good for you!” Bruce’s threat was undone by the soft, needy sounds that immediately followed. “Just a warning, though—it’s been a while. This could be over quick.”

“Good,” Tony replied with a smirk, his hand moving with an even rhythm. “Then we’ll have time for a second round.”

“Not likely,” Bruce chuckled. 

A quick twist of the wrist. “Don’t crush my dreams, babe.”

“Seriously, Tony,” Bruce gasped, rocking into Tony‘s hand, “don’t call me ‘babe‘. Please. It’s just weird.” 

“Stroke me, stroke me. . .” Tony sang under his breath. 

“Stop that!” Bruce’s laughter did nothing to dampen his arousal, and his hips pistoned a little faster. 

Tony reached up with his left hand to stroke and rub across Bruce’s pectorals, his short blunt nails scraping through the dense soft hair and across one sensitive nipple, while he continued working his other hand over Bruce’s cock. 

“God, I love this chest. Have I told you that before? I probably have but I need to say it again. I fucking love your chest, babe.” 

Bruce laughed harder. “Stop it! Jesus, Tony, I’m trying to cum here!”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“For you to stop being an asshole.”

“Got a long wait there, buddy.” 

Bruce could feel it, he was almost there. He reached down and wrapped his hand around Tony’s, guiding it, pumping it up and down his cock harder and faster. “Just. . . a bit. . . more,” he groaned, biting down on his lower lip. 

“Oh, no you don’t,” Tony scolded. “That lip belongs to me.” He slipped his hand away from Bruce’s chest to wrap it instead around the back of his neck and pull him in for a fierce kiss, making a point of sucking on Bruce’s bitten, swollen lower lip. When Bruce whimpered, Tony sped up his strokes. “C’mon, big guy,” he urged. “You fucking gorgeous man. Give it to me.”

Bruce did. With a long, low grunt, he painted Tony’s chest with cum as their entwined hands caressed Bruce’s cock through his orgasm, until, with one final kiss, Bruce pulled away and collapsed onto the mattress next to Tony. 

It took a few moments but once Bruce had pulled himself together, he found tissues on the nightstand and carefully cleaned first Tony and then himself. Once that was done, he snuggled up to Tony as promised, head half-resting on Tony's shoulder, his fingers splayed across Tony's chest, absently stroking. “Now I remember why I came back,” he murmured.

“Worth the strip search?”

They both laughed. “Most definitely.” Bruce sighed as Tony’s fingers petted through his sweat-wet curls. “I could really get used to this.”

“You could have it again, you know,” Tony said, softly. 

“Not tonight, I’m afraid. I’m not as young as I used to be.”

Tony turned a bit, grimacing at the slight pain his action caused, but wanting to look at Bruce as he spoke. “No, I meant . . . come back to the Compound with me. It’s in the middle of nowhere, 100 acres. No cities or civilians to worry about, just Rhodey and me and some aspiring superheroes. You could have your own room. Your own wing. Set up your lab. It’ll be just like before.”

Bruce chuckled sadly, “Tony, spending more time with you? There’s nothing I would rather do, but I can’t.”

“Why not?” and Tony couldn’t hide the hint of desperation in his voice. “No one would know you’re there.”

“What about Ross?”

“What about him?”

"After this past week, he’s going to be out for blood, and you’re probably at the top of that list."

“I can handle Ross,” Tony insisted.

“You think you can, but I’ve been dealing with that bastard a lot longer than you.” There was so much sadness and regret in Bruce’s eyes. “Tony, I’m looking out for you. You’re hanging on by a thread as it is. If he found out about me. . .”

“He won’t.” Tony was adamant.

“But he could.”

“Then he’d have to get through me first.”

“He’d destroy you. And then I’d have to destroy him. And as much as I’d love to do that, and fuck knows he deserves it, it wouldn’t end well for anyone.” Bruce let out a resigned sigh. “I can't stay, Tony. The risk is too great, for both of us. You know I’m right.”

Tony rolled over onto his back and pouted. Or it would have been a pout if Tony Stark actually pouted. “I don't have to like it.”

“I wouldn't expect you to. But we can’t always get what we want.”

Tony fairly rolled his eyes. “Ah, yes. . .Mick Jagger. One of the great philosophers of our generation.”

“I only meant. . .”

“No, I get it. And you’re right. If there were poster children for that sentiment, it’d be us. It’s just. . .” Tony gave a frustrated huff. “. . .I really fucking miss you, Bruce. Tonight only reminded me how much.”

“You could always come with me instead,” Bruce suggested. “Just pack a knapsack and leave all this behind. The two of us on the run, seeing new places, having adventures, sleeping under the stars. It's actually nowhere near as glamorous as it sounds, but you're welcome to tag along."

“Are you kidding?” Tony scoffed. “Pep would kill me.” 

“She’d have to find you first. I hear Guam’s nice this time of year.”

Tony gave it a moment of serious thought. It actually sounded rather appealing. And he could really use a break —he was just so damn tired! But eventually common sense, and his fucking conscience, kicked in. “It’s very tempting, but I’ve put that woman through enough over the years without dumping this shit-storm in her lap. And Rhodey —I need to look after him, take care of him. He’s always been there for me, good times and bad. It’s my turn now. Plus there’s this kid . . . I, uh, I wanna keep an eye on him.”

“Spider guy?” Bruce guessed. 

“Spider- _Man_ ,” Tony corrected with a fond smile. “Yeah. He’s a good kid. Bright, brave. Has a big heart. Lots of potential but a bit reckless.”

“Sounds vaguely familiar.” Bruce added a kiss to the compliment, keeping it soft as his lips brushed over a particularly nasty bruise on Tony’s shoulder. “Well, if you ever change your mind. . .”

“Bruce, honestly, can you imagine me without regular access to espresso?” Tony joked, trying to get Bruce off this topic before he changed his mind and ordered FRIDAY to book them two tickets to Guam. . .wherever the hell that was.

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want to inflict that on innocent people.” Bruce skimmed his fingers lightly over the arc reactor scars. “Just remember, I may not always be here physically, but I’m always here.” And he tapped Tony's heart. 

“But I like it when you're here physically.” Tony whined. Or it would have been a whine if Tony Stark actually whined. “Just tell me that you’ll keep me in the loop this time? Even if it’s just to let me know you‘re okay?”

Bruce nodded. “If it’s safe for both of us, I’ll find a way to contact you.”

Tony realized that was the best he could hope for, so he pulled Bruce closer, knowing now that one night was all he was going to get and determined to enjoy every moment of snuggling that he could. “You’re gonna stay for breakfast, right?"

“As long as you're not cooking," Bruce deadpanned.

“Rude! I’ll have you know I make a mean bowl of Wheaties.”

“Wow. Five star dining.”

“You know what? I withdraw the offer.”

“Too late. You asked.”

“So. . .yes?” And Tony kind of hated the hopeful tone in his voice. 

“I think I’m safe for one night.” Tilting his head up, he brushed his lips across Tony’s. “Now, get some sleep.”

“Have you met me?”

“Try,” Bruce said gently before commanding, “FRIDAY, dim the lights please?” 

“As you request, Doctor Banner.”

And in the darkened room, snuggled against his dear friend, Tony closed his eyes and for the first time in days, slept. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The next morning, Tony woke to an empty bed. He tried to push aside his disappointment. If he was being honest with himself, he hadn’t really expected Bruce to stick around, not the way he was acting last night. But still, a good-bye kiss would have been nice. 

In the bathroom, he took care of business and had a quick shower, then returned to the bedroom to get dressed. Business casual was called for today: tailored slacks, nice suit jacket, and that kitten tee-shirt Rhodey had gotten him as a gag gift and said Tony would never wear. Well, time to prove him wrong. 

As he was tying his sneakers, he mentally planned out his day. Up to the Compound for a few hours to visit with Rhodey and make sure he was getting on okay. Then he had to get over to the airport to meet up with Happy and Peter—he was still working out which white lies he was going to tell Aunt May. Then, with any luck, he could come back here and spend some time in the workshop. He had a few projects that were way behind schedule thanks to Ross, plus some new ideas for Rhodey’s braces that he wanted to get started on.

Looked like he was in for another long, tiring day, and this one wasn’t likely to end with Bruce Banner, a bowl of pho and a spectacular blowjob.

He took the elevator down to the kitchen, planning on a cup of coffee or three to start his day, only to find someone already puttering around the room.

“What are you doing here?” he asked Bruce, who was pulling two small plates out of an overhead cabinet.

Bruce smiled easily. “And good morning to you, too.” 

“I didn’t mean. . .” Tony began but Bruce cut him off.

“You thought I left,” he stated, confidently.

Tony sat down at the table, eying the battered leather sports bag he had given Bruce years ago on the floor at Bruce’s feet. “Well, you do have a history.”

“I woke up, you were still sleeping, I was hungry, so I popped out to Ess-a-Bagel.” He put a paper cup emblazoned with the café’s logo on the table in front of Tony. “Didn’t expect to be gone so long. I thought I’d be back by the time you got out of bed.”

Tony lifted the cup’s cover, his mouth almost watering at the delicious espresso aroma. “You should have woken me up. I told you I’d make Wheaties.”

“Two slight problems with that. One, you don’t have Wheaties—or any other kind of cereal, in fact. And two, even if you did, the milk expired two weeks ago.”

“Oh.” Tony sounded disappointed. Whether it was at the lack of drinkable milk or at himself his forgetfulness, it was hard to tell. “Sorry. Guess with everything going on I lost track of time.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Bruce placed a plate containing a cut poppy seed bagel next to the cup of coffee.

“Herb spread?”

“Of course.” And a plastic container of cream cheese and a butter knife magically appeared on the table.

“You know, you keep feeding me like this, I won’t fit into the armor anymore,” Tony joked.

“Something tells me you’ve skipped enough meals lately to compensate.”

“I hate you know me so well.” Tony spread a generous amount of herb cheese on the bagel and took a bite, moaning happily. 

“Good?”

“Almost as good as your blowjob last night.” Tony grinned. “Almost.”

“High praise indeed.”

Tony took another bite. “Rhodey loves poppy seed bagels.”

“That’s why I picked up a few extra.” Bruce gestured to the box on the counter. “I thought maybe we could head up to the Compound and give him a treat. The food’s probably good, but nothing compares to a real New York bagel, right?”

“We?” Tony repeated, curiously.

Bruce glanced away, suddenly nervous. Maybe this was a bad idea, but oh, how he WANTED. “Yeah, I mean, if you don’t mind the company.”

“You want to come up to the Compound?” Tony clarified.

Bruce sat down at the table next to Tony with his own paper cup and a plain Nine-Grain bagel. “I thought I could help out for a while, until we know Rhodes is okay. Just for a few days. Nothing long term. If that’s all right with you?”

Tony could barely hide his excitement. “Yeah, yeah, of course. I told you, Bruce—you always have a home here. I’d love to have you. Um, staying. I’d love to have you staying. With me. With us. And other things. I’d love to have you for other things, too, you know, if that’s what you want.”

A shy smile tugged at Bruce’s lips at Tony’s bout of enthusiastic babble. “‘Other things’ are good with me.”

“Good, that’s good. Especially since we never got to round two last night.”

“That’s because you fell asleep on me,” Bruce reminded him.

“Yeah, well, payback’s a bitch, my friend.”

“That mean we’re even now?”

“Hmmm, I suppose so.” Bruce chuckled lightly as he removed the cover on his disgustingly healthy green tea. Tony just wrinkled his nose. “I can’t believe you honestly think drinking boiled twigs is gonna keep Mr. Pants Buster under control.”

“It couldn’t hurt,“ Bruce replied, adding, with a smirk, “And you didn’t seem to have a problem with Mr. Pants Buster losing control last night.”

Tony huffed out a startled laugh, almost choking on his coffee. “Jesus, Banner — fucking warn me next time.” 

“That takes all the fun out of it.”

“Now you sound like me.”

“Oh, the horror.” Bruce took a sip of his tea; after a moment, he asked, “So, did you sleep well?” 

“Best in months. Thanks to you. . .and Mr. Pants Buster.”

Bruce grinned. “It wasn’t a hardship, trust me.”

“I do.” Tony looked away, suddenly feeling exposed and awkward at the unexpected admission. He sipped at his sinfully good coffee until the feeling passed. “Can I ask what changed your mind?” he finally said. “About staying?”

Tearing off a piece of his bagel, Bruce quipped, “Besides the fact that we’ve already established I can’t say no to you?” and popped it in his mouth. 

“Yeah, besides that.”

“Last night, after you fell asleep, I was thinking about what you said, about being there for Rhodes and Pepper and that Spider kid and I realized. . .who was going to be there for Tony?”

“It’s Spider-Man, and contrary to popular belief, I can take care of myself,” Tony replied a bit defensively. Pointing at his sneakers, he added, “Look, I can tie my own shoes and everything.”

“Everything except buy milk, apparently.”

“That was Happy’s job. He shall be drawn and quartered at dawn.”

“And when Happy’s not around?”

Tony shrugged. “I make do. I always have.”

“But you shouldn’t have to. You don’t have to go it alone, Tony. You have people who care about you. Who love you.”

“Did you just say the ’L’ word?” Tony teased, trying to lighten the suddenly serious mood.

“Yes, I did, and I’m not taking it back.” Bruce took another bite of bagel, then said, “Can I be honest with you?”

“You always have been. . .unlike some other people I could name.” Tony sensed that bitter taste in his mouth wasn’t going away anytime soon.

“That’s not the only reason I want to stay,” Bruce confessed. Taking a sip of tea for courage— which didn’t really work as it wasn't fortified with something 80-proof— he continued, “The truth is, it’s you, Tony. Not looking after you, or taking care of you or whatever. It’s. . .talking with you, eating with you, working with you, ‘other things’ (in air quotes which made Tony smile) with you. I just like being with you, and I’m not ready to give that up just yet.”

Tony reached out and placed his hand on top of Bruce’s as a wave of relief washed through him. “God, yeah, me too. Everything you just said. Just. . .yeah.” 

“Eloquent,” Bruce teased.

“Fuck eloquent. I’ve got my science bro back. Hey, I’ll have to bring Par. . .ahhh, I mean, Spider-Man up to the Compound. He’s a big science geek, too. I’m sure he’d love to meet you.”

“I look forward to it, but just remember that none of this is permanent,” Bruce cautioned. “The first sign of trouble, whether Ross or. . .” he paused, “ or green stuff, I’ll have to go. I won’t put you, or anyone else, in danger.”

Tony nodded. “Got it. But you promised me you’d keep in touch this time.”

“And I‘ll keep that promise.” He lifted Tony’s hand and kissed it. “I wish things could be different.”

“If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.”

Bruce chuckled. “I think we can stop with the philosophy lessons.”

“Technically, it’s a proverb,” Tony pointed out.

“Technically, you’re a smart-ass.”

“And it took you this long to figure that out? Some genius you are.”

“Nah, I always knew that. It’s one of the things I like about you.” He pulled Tony in for a quick kiss. “Finish your breakfast. Don’t want to keep Rhodes waiting.”

Once they were both done eating, Tony packed up the bagels and spread while Bruce grabbed his trusty sports bag, and they headed towards the elevator. On the ride down to the lobby, Tony kept throwing knowing looks and smirks at Bruce which Bruce tried— and failed— to ignore. (“Ahhh, there’s that delicious blush again!” “Screw you, Stark.” “With pleasure, Doctor Banner.”)

As they reached the ground floor and were walking out of the building, FRIDAY chirped, “Have a good day, Boss.”

And while things still weren’t perfect, and most of his life was still a piping hot mess, Tony smiled widely. After all, Bruce Banner was by his side once again, and that made everything just a little bit better.

 

THE END


End file.
